


everything is cozy

by cloudruniere



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, soft, transferring from hachannie livejournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:09:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudruniere/pseuds/cloudruniere
Summary: where hugs meet trees, with some stuff in between(based on poems by shel silverstein in his book, where the sidewalk ends, specifically hug-o-war, pancake?, tree house and no difference)





	everything is cozy

Jongin thought he was no different than the other kids. While he was big and tall, others short and small, he still didn’t think there was a difference at all. But when recess rang and with stubbly feet did the children run to the grassy fields, a tug of war began with a pink skipping rope and Jongin thought that maybe he was a wee bit different. Just a tiny bit.  
  
“What are you talking about, you doofus?” a gangly, freckled boy spat. Jongin inched away, head falling to stare at the ants scurrying on the pavement beside the weeds. His hands shakily wiped away the saliva that landed on his reddening cheeks.  
  
“A Hug-O'-War,” Jongin mumbled, and his eyes watered when the other kids started laughing. He sniffled and a little girl next to him reached over to poke him. Jongin winced, whined and walked away, giggles and shouts echoing behind him.  
  
As he sat down next to the entrance back into the pre-school, a pout on his lips and his arms empty of cuddles, a savior in a cartoon sweater and beige pants came into his view, blocking the sun but radiating his own light.  
  
“I like hugs,” the dark haired boy said, crouching down so he could flick at Jongin’s forehead, and contrary to tears that may be expected to fall, Jongin smiled. “and that game is stupid, I like yours better.”  
  
So Jongin stood up and wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders, the other’s settling around his waist. They teetered side to side before letting go and smiling childishly at one another before going in to play again.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Jongin thought he was different.  
  
He had been over to Kyungsoo(his hug buddy)’s, house many other times previously, and had always enjoyed how it smelled like freshly cooked food. Like desserts on Saturday and oddly but not really, clean laundry on Sunday. The morning after their Friday night sleepover, where they slept late because Hug-O'-War while rolling on Kyungsoo’s carpeted bedroom floor had been a better idea than either had anticipated, Jongin stared in awe at the enormous stack of pancakes towering over his petite frame.  
  
His mouth watered at the golden sight and faltered a bit when Kyungsoo’s mother asked, “Who wants a pancake?”  
  
Good ol’ Kyungsoo picked one off the top and dug right it, but not before being generous and dousing it all in a rich, dark syrup.  
  
Jongin, after sparing a mischievous glance in Kyungsoo’s direction, reached forward and attempted to snatch a pancake from the middle. Swiftly, he failed and the tower flopped to the side, where it splashed the puddle of goo called maple syrup and coated Kyungsoo’s pristine face in splotches of brown.  
  
Initially, Jongin panicked but a millisecond later, Kyungsoo laughed and simply cut a small triangle of a pancake off his serving and wiped it on his face before feeding an embarrassed Jongin.  
  
“That’s what you get.”  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Highschoolers weren't supposed to spend their quiet time in tree houses but Jongin thought he was different.  
  
His father helped him build it a few years ago, when leftover wood from their friend’s renovation was given to them and a perfectly stable tree still left bare in the backyard, yearning for something to be housed on its sturdy branches.  
  
Jongin traced his fingers along the bulletin board he posted on one wall, filled with pictures of past and present and drawings of the future, silly little doodles that were supposed to mean nothing but they made him smile so he guessed nothing was actually something. And that same something came crawling up a few beats after he started staring at a cute picture of him and his buddy in a hug.  
  
“Found you,” Kyungsoo heaved, school uniform catching leaves on the front and a few strays from the wind landing in his unruly hair. Jongin loved that hair, it was soft and silky, such a beautiful darkness.  
  
“Congratulations,” Jongin laughed, shuffling to the right to make room on the comfortable side of the wood. Kyungsoo settled in naturally beside him.  
  
Brown eyes scanned the interior, landing on their legs outstretched alongside one another, nearly reaching the parallel wall. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in here.” Kyungsoo commented, pale hands absently feeling the wood. Jongin held those hands once, twice, maybe another few, the number didn’t matter but the blossoms in his chest at the touches did.  
  
“Lies,” Jongin chuckled, fiddling with the spare change in his jean pocket, the rhythm that he played with the coins leading his words, “I swear you came in here last week.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiled a cheeky grin, all pearly white teeth and pink gums and rainbow butterflies that Jongin hoped would escape from his chest at the breath he let out.  
  
“Oops,” Kyungsoo smacked his lips together. Jongin watched as the sun set outside the window behind Kyungsoo’s head. “I guess I forgot.”  
  
“Your memory is horrible.”  
  
“It isn’t, really,” Kyungsoo argued, turning so he sat cross-legged in front of Jongin, head falling down to rest a chin on a dainty wrist. “I still remember that this is your tree house.”  
  
Jongin’s eyes crinkled at the edges as his mouth quirked, “A free house.”  
  
“A secret you and me house.”  
  
Two laughs echoed in melody as their synchronised words floated in marriage through the chilly air. Jongin shivered and blinked, the effect making it seem like in a single moment the orange atmosphere darkened and night fell like a cascading raindrop. He was too distracted, and like the change of time. Jongin was surprised when a cold hand reached over and covered his in a safe hold.  
  
“Your mom told me what happened today,” Kyungsoo murmured and Jongin switched his gaze from interlocking fingers to full, red lips. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”  
  
Slightly uncomfortable, Jongin turned his head away, letting his bangs that got too long cover his eyes that shied away. “I guess.”  
  
“You can’t let those stupid boys trample all over you, Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispered, letting his fingers loosen slightly so they could be freed and angle Jongin’s declining head to look right at him. “You are no different from them, so they shouldn’t treat you as anything less than an equal. If anything, you’re actually better than those bullies, at least you don’t kick and beat people down just because they claim themselves to be on top.”  
  
Jongin squeezed his friend’s hand, thankful for the talk but having no words to express the gratitude he felt just to be reassured of his worth.  
  
“Hey, Jongin,” Kyungsoo said, making Jongin inch a little closer. “What do you see?”  
  
Not very much, Jongin wanted to say, the hours getting late and the sun going to bed to let its moon shine. He could barely see Kyungsoo’s face by now, all shadows of the world layering over his vision and shielding the vividity.  
  
“Not very much,” Kyungsoo spoke his thoughts, “and that’s exactly what I wanted to point out.”  
  
In an act of comfort, he let his free hand trail up to Jongin’s neck, caressing and massaging the slightly sweaty skin underneath the scratchy blue collar.  
  
“Big or small, rich or poor, black or white, we’re all the same, when you turn off the light.” Kyungsoo murmured, “So don’t let them get to you, okay?”  
  
Jongin’s hand caught the slightly smaller one that made it’s retreat down the front of his sweater, connecting them so both his hands were busy being buried in warmth.  
  
“Thank you,” he whispered, before pulling Kyungsoo closer so they separated hands only to be brought together again in a tight hug.  
  
“Anytime, buddy.”  
  
Jongin wrinkled his nose, “You know what I always loved about my game?”  
  
Kyungsoo hummed, the reverberation fluttering Jongin’s chest.  
  
“How you can hug,” his arms rubbed small circles on Kyungsoo’s back, “you can cuddle,” Kyungsoo’s hands momentarily threaded through Jongin’s hair, his head turning to bury his nose in the brown locks and revel in the tropical scent, “you can kiss,” with a leap of faith, Jongin pulled back to crane his head and place a quick kiss on Kyungsoo’s unsuspecting lips, the action fast and causing Kyungsoo’s head to reel, “you can grin,” both boys were still before they began to chuckle and lean their foreheads together, noses brushing against each other before Kyungsoo leaned forward to steal a kiss of his own, “and you always win.”  
  
Jongin thought he was different from the other kids, but he began liking that a long time ago.

**Author's Note:**

> twt @leledyo


End file.
